Out of the Darkness into the Light
by bjobsessed
Summary: Jim is just home from the hospital. Christie is the only one who can break through his wall of anger and frustration, but will she do it?
1. Chapter 1

Christie had worked hard to prepare one of Jim's favourite meals. She hoped it would help bring him out of the depression he'd been in since coming home from the hospital. She put on some quiet music in the background, turned down the lights, and lit a scented candle. Christie inhaled deeply, enjoying the smell of cinnamon apple that filled the apartment.

"Jim, dinner's ready," she called, as she put the last dish on the table.

"I'll be right there." He was half asleep on the couch and didn't like the thought of having to walk to the kitchen right now. Sleeping was much more appealing than eating.

"Jim, come on before it gets cold," Christie demanded. She was getting annoyed. He'd always been slow to come to the table, but now, he seemed unwilling to move.

He forced himself to sit up. A slight chill ran through his body as his feet met with the cold floor. He sat for a minute while his mind cleared. He needed to make sure he was awake and alert as he made his way to the table.

Getting around the apartment was going well, but it was still strange and he still bumped into things. The worst part was that he was never exactly where he thought he was. He was always off by a couple of steps and as a result, his shins were covered in bruises. He _still _expected to see the couch when he stood, the dining room behind him as he turned around.

Might as well get it over with. Dinner did smell good and he knew Christie had worked hard at preparing a nice meal. Slowly, he stood and headed toward the dining room. He'd only taken a few steps when his foot hit something that had been left on the floor. This threw his already fragile balance off causing him to tumble forward. Instinctively, he put his hands out in front of him, hoping to find something to stop his fall. Just when he thought he was going to fall flat on his face, his hands came in contact with the chair to the left of the coffee table. He regained his dignity as fast as he could and felt a wave of relief sweep over him when he reached the dining room without further incident.

Christie cursed silently as she watched him struggle to stay upright. She had come home from the grocery store and kicked her shoes off without thinking. All she had wanted to do was read the paper for a few minutes before she started dinner, something she had always done. In fact, something they had both done after a long day at work. It was one of those little things that she could no longer do and could no longer forget, but it was so hard. Nothing could be out of place. Everything had a specific place and had to stay there. She couldn't deny that Jim had the biggest adjustment to make. After all, he had to live the rest of his life in a world of darkness, but her life was changing too. Spontaneity was dangerous. Everything had to be cleaned up immediately so there were no surprises for Jim

"Umm…where do you want me to sit?" Jim's question interrupted her thoughts.

"Oh, sorry, Jim. Here." She guided his hand to the back of a chair. He felt for the seat and sat down.

"I made some of your favourites," Christie said, hoping to see even a small smile. "Chicken, rice with vegetables, coleslaw, and panforte for dessert. Not only was she trying to cheer him up, she was also hoping he'd eat a decent meal. He'd lost a lot of weight since the accident. He wasn't really interested in eating these days, said food no longer tasted very good. In fact, he complained that it had no taste at all.

"Thanks. That's nice." Jim knew she'd be disappointed that he didn't make a fuss, but eating was a nightmare and eating in front of anyone, even Christie, made him feel awkward and helpless.

Christie could see the tension in his face already. Every muscle was tight, his face full of worry, his brow creased as if he was in pain. She took a deep breath and kept her voice as cheery as possible. "Your chicken is at 12:00 o'clock, the rice is at 3:00 o'clock, and the peas are at 9:00 o'clock. Your drink is at 1:00 o'clock, and the coleslaw is in a side dish at 11:00 o'clock."

"Great." Jim knew that Christie was just telling him what they'd been taught in the hospital about using the clock face to understand where food was located, but he still couldn't get used to it. It always made him feel like he was back in kindergarten learning how to tell time. Every time he sat down to eat a nice dinner, he concentrated with every ounce of strength he could find, straining to see something, anything, so he could eat like an adult instead of a preschooler. No matter how hard he tried, the result was always the same. The darkness always won. Never a glimmer of light. The black hole he was trapped in grew deeper and deeper.

"Jim, is everything alright?" Christie asked with a note of concern. Had she forgotten to tell him something?

"Yeah, everything's fine," Jim said, as he tried to give her a reassuring smile. She had gone to a lot of trouble so the least he could do was enjoy it. He used his fork to orient himself as to exactly where everything was located on his plate. He was feeling pretty good until he got to the chicken and felt the bone. His body stiffened a little and he could feel the tension mounting again. He'd have to cut it. Jim pushed that thought out of his mind and decided to start with the rice. That shouldn't be too hard.

Christie watched in silence. Mealtime was no longer enjoyable. They rarely talked. She didn't know what to say, and he needed every ounce of concentration to get through the meal. She never told him how much food he dropped, how much landed on the floor or in his lap instead of his mouth.

_Here goes nothing_, Jim thought as he found the rice with his fork. The first few bites were never too hard. As he brought the fork to his mouth, he discovered there was more rice on the fork than he thought, and he didn't have it right in front of his mouth. He felt some of the rice fall as he stabbed his bottom lip with the fork before finding his mouth. He hoped the rice had fallen on his plate and not on the table, the floor, or his lap. He desperately wanted to know if he had made a mess, but didn't want to feel around in front of Christie. He took another bite of rice, this time finding his mouth with no problem.

Finding the coleslaw wasn't too difficult. As much as he hated it, he had to admit that using the clock face made it easy to find his food. He trailed his hand around the edge of the plate until he found the coleslaw. Carefully he picked up the bowl and held it over his plate. His first bite was nothing but fork. How could that be when he had a whole bowl of coleslaw? He tried again and met with success until he got to the bottom of the bowl. Not knowing exactly how much was left, he scraped his bowl and hoped there was a pile big enough for another bite. After a few empty or near-empty forks, he decided to give up before he made a mess of it. Either he'd eaten it all or there wasn't much left.

Christie watched him from across the table. It felt wrong to stare at him while he was eating, but she couldn't help it. She wanted to be ready to help him if he needed it and she knew he wouldn't ask. There had been many times when she had quietly moved something out of the way so he wouldn't knock it over or spill his drink. He didn't seem to notice. If he did, he never said anything. This meal was going well so far, and Christie felt good. Maybe this was going to be a bright spot in the never-ending frustration of the darkness that had overtaken them both.

Jim took a drink of water and then put the glass back on the table. As he let go, he heard the sound of the glass hitting the table. He must have put it on top of something. "Damn it!"

Startled by the intrusion, Christie saw Jim's glass overturn, a river of water slowly making its way toward her. The sound of water dripping from the table to the floor reminded her of a tap that had been left running. "Jim, it's ok. I'll clean it up.

"Sorry, Christie. I'm so stupid! All I do is make more work for you." Jim pushed the palms of his hands into his eyes and squeezed them shut as hard as he could. His head was starting to pound, and he was exhausted. Eating was so hard. He couldn't allow his mind to wander, even for a second, or this is what happened.

"You're not stupid. This is still new. It'll get easier. Just give it some time."

"How long?" Jim demanded.

"I don't know, but it will be a lot longer if you quit every time you spill something. Didn't your mother ever tell you not to cry over spilt…water? Come on, let's just enjoy the rest of the meal. You're doing great."

Jim didn't think so, but he didn't make a move to leave the table. Together they sat in silence again, each lost in their own thoughts. _I can't avoid it anymore,_ Jim thought. _I have to eat the chicken. I have to cut the chicken. _

He felt around his plate until he found his knife and fork. With the fork in his left and the knife in his right, he managed to find the chicken without incident. A feeling of relief came over him. At least he'd found it without making a fool of himself. Now all he had to do was get a piece from his plate to his mouth. _No sweat, Dunbar_, he told himself. _It's just chicken. You can do it._ Taking a deep breath, he stuck his fork in the meat. Next, he found the fork with his knife and began to cut. As he felt the knife slide into the meat, he relaxed just a little. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all.

His positive thoughts were interrupted by the sound of knife sawing bone. He hesitated for a second. _Oh no!_ Jim thought. _Just relax,_ he told himself. _Take your time. Don't panic. All you have to do is get the knife under the chicken and cut. It'll come right off._ It took some maneuvering, but he finally managed to get the stubborn piece of meat off the bone and into his mouth. He had to admit that it tasted pretty good, but he couldn't decide whether it was worth all the work. _One down, forty-nine to go_. "Christie, this is delicious."

Sometimes it wasn't too bad and other times, he couldn't tell whether he had cut any off the bone or not. More than once he brought an empty fork to his mouth or heard his fork hit an empty spot on the plate. He was trying hard for Christie's sake, but he was tired and frustrated. He dug his fork into a piece of meat and started to lift it toward his mouth. All of a sudden, he was startled by a loud bang that reminded him of a fist hitting the table.

"Jim, why don't I cut the rest of it off the bone?" Christie said from across the table.

"What did you say?" Jim demanded.

"I just wondered if you wanted me to take the rest of your chicken off the bone, then you wouldn't have to fight with it so much."

That did it. All of his frustrations exploded from him in an instant. "What are you saying?" he demanded angrily. He could take a lot of things, but having Christie cut his meat like some little kid? "Are you saying that now that I'm blind, I can't cut my meat? Do you think I'm going to cut myself like some three-year-old? I bet you're sitting there having a great old time, laughing every time I go to eat and the fork is empty, every time I drop something. That big bang was the chicken bone wasn't it! That must have looked really funny! Look at Jimmy. He doesn't know he's about to eat the whole bone! This ought to be good. I think I'll just sit back and enjoy the show!"

Christie had to work very hard at staying calm. Getting caught up in a shouting match would solve nothing. "Jim, that's not fair! You know I'd never laugh at you! How can you even think that? I was only trying to help. I _know_ you can cut your meat. I _know_ you are not three years old. It's just that you seem to be struggling so much. I thought maybe since you had to work so hard to get the chicken off the bone, you weren't enjoying it. That's all."

"Shit!" Jim yelled, as he heard his fork hit the floor.

He bent over, his hand doing a sweep of the floor around his chair and under the table in search of his runaway fork. Unable to find it, he sat up and hollered in Christie's direction. "Why did you have to make chicken on the bone? You should have cut it off for me!"

She looked at him in disbelief. Hadn't she just offered to do that? "Jim I…"

"I don't want to hear it! You knew I couldn't handle this yet and you made it anyway. I bet you did it on purpose. I bet you're sorry you stayed with me now and wish you'd left before all this! You left something in the middle of the floor because you wanted to see me fall!"

"That's ridiculous!" Christie could contain herself no longer. "Why would I do that? Why would I do any of those things? I've been walking on eggshells ever since you came home, afraid I'm going to say or do the wrong thing. I can't move the furniture even an inch because you might bang into it. Maybe I should have cooked boneless chicken because you aren't ready to cut meat off the bone. Well you know what, Jim? I didn't think about that and I'm sorry. When you got shot, your life wasn't the only one that was turned upside down! My life has changed too. Did you ever stop for one minute to think about that?"

Jim had heard enough. He just wanted to leave and be alone. He stood and left the table as fast as he could. In his haste, he banged into something on the way to the bedroom. It hurt like hell, but he didn't stop. He kept going until he found the bedroom and slammed the door leaving Christie frustrated and alone.


	2. Chapter 2

Hours later, Christie sat on the couch lost in thought. Jim hadn't emerged from the bedroom since their shouting match and she didn't expect to see him anytime soon. She just didn't understand how he could be so ungrateful after all the trouble she'd gone to. She was still off work, she'd made a nice mid-day dinner just for him, and all he did was yell and complain. _Don't cut the chicken, cut the chicken. Don't cut the chicken._ Ahhhhh! Why couldn't he just make up his mind? The man had been home from the hospital for almost a week-and-a-half. When was the drink spilling and the food dropping going to stop? It was just like living with a child. No, it was worse. At least, you could talk to a child. There was really no talking to Jim and part of her felt guilty for thinking that way. She knew he was angry and felt useless, but why couldn't he get what it was like for her? Why couldn't he see that she was trying, and just ask for help if he needed it? What was the big deal?

Christie closed her eyes and massaged her temple with her fingertips in and effort to rid her head of the pounding drum that threatened to take control at any moment. Maybe it would help if she did something else for a while. For the first time, she noticed the latest issue of _Fashion _lying on the coffee table. How long had that been there? She usually looked at it as soon as it arrived. Christie thumbed through it but couldn't focus on anything. After reading the same thing five times, she gave up and tossed the magazine back on the table.

She could try watching TV. You didn't have to think to do that, especially now. All the soap operas were on. She recognized the soap as _Days of Our Lives_. She'd only seen it a few times since she was usually at work. The storylines were usually a little too far-fetched for her liking. A man and a woman were involved in a heated discussion. Husband and wife? Christie wasn't really paying attention, but then she heard something that sent chills down her spine.

"You're blind not dead! Abe, you can't sit in this chair for the rest of your life. I need you! Theo needs you!"

"Lexie, what you need is a real man who can take care of you in every way. Theo needs a father who can take him to the park and play baseball, and that's not me anymore!

"Oh, honey, you're a good cop, a great husband, and a wonderful father. I don't want anyone else and neither does Theo."

"Was a good cop!" the man said in a loud angry voice. "What kind of criminal am I going to catch now?

"Abe…"

"Get out! Just get out and leave me alone!"

Christie couldn't take it anymore. She couldn't believe it. The one time I turn on _Days of Our Lives_, and what's on it? A story about a blind cop! _So much for taking my mind off things,_ she thought.

Now what? She picked up her phone book. Was there anyone she could call? Christie hadn't really talked much since Jim had come home from the hospital. Oh, people had called, but no one seemed to have the time to listen to how things really were. They just wanted the standard answer, not all the doom and gloom. She was just about to close it when she spotted Kylie's name. They had been friends for quite a while and Kylie had called a few times to see how things were going. Christie hadn't gotten around to calling her back. Now was as good a time as any.

She picked up the phone, took a deep breath, and dialed Kylie's number.

"Hello," said a pleasant voice.

"Hi, Kylie. This is Christie."

"Hey, Christie! I'm so glad you called. I've been thinking about you. How are things going? How are you?

Christie hesitated. Now that she was faced with actually having to say how she felt, she wasn't sure if she could. "I…okay, I guess."

"How's Jim?"

"I don't know. He really doesn't say much these days."

Kylie sensed Christie really wanted to talk, needed to talk, but didn't know how to get started. Her voice sounded tired, shaky, like she could cry at any moment. "Would you like to meet me for coffee? We haven't spent much time together lately, and I think it would do you good to get out for a while."

Five minutes later, Christie was standing at the bedroom door ready to go. "Jim, I'm going to meet Kylie for coffee. Will you be all right while I'm gone?"

Jim turned and faced Christie, eyes blazing, his mouth set in a firm line. "There you go again, treating me like some little kid! I'm not helpless, you know. I can take care of myself!"

"Oh really? If you're so good at taking care of yourself, how come you're still dropping food all over the floor and bumping into things around the apartment?" Christie knew her words would hurt, but she didn't care. "Since you don't need any help, you can get your own dinner. Don't expect me to get it for you! I'll see you when I get back, and no, I don't know when that will be! Thanks for asking!" Christie slammed the door, leaving Jim alone to suffer.

Christie arrived at the coffee shop a few minutes later and found Kylie already sitting at a table. She stood and gave her friend a hug. "Christie, it's so good to see you."

"Good to see you too," Christie said as she sat down, desperately fighting back the tears that threatened to escape at any moment.

"So tell me, how are you and Jim getting along?"

For a moment, Christie didn't know where to begin, but once she started, she couldn't stop. "Oh Kylie, it's awful! He won't let me or anyone else help him at all, and he thinks you're treating him like a baby if you offer to do anything for him. Every time he eats, he drops food all over the place or spills his drink. Earlier today, I made a nice dinner. I made all his favourites, but I didn't cut the chicken off the bone. He had a really hard time cutting it and it ended up on the floor. First he yelled at me because I didn't cut it, then he yelled at me when I offered to cut it. He bumps into things all the time and spends most of the day alone doing nothing or throwing a ball against the wall. We don't talk to one another at all. Every conversation turns into a shouting match with one or both of us stomping off to our separate corners. Sometimes it feels like we're in a boxing ring only there's no referee so it will never end. It's like we're between rounds and we're both waiting for the bell so we can come out swinging again."

Kylie remained silent until she was sure Christie was finished. "Let me ask you something. Have you stopped to think that Jim's not really angry at you?

"Well, no. His anger always seems to be directed at me."

"He's angry at his situation, at what's happened to him, so he's lashing out and you just happen to be there."

Christie couldn't believe what she was hearing. "How can you sit there and defend him? Are you saying it's okay for him to yell and scream at me all day long?"

"No, of course not, but what do you do when he yells at you?"

Was she kidding? "What do you think?" Christie said sarcastically. Kylie appeared not to notice, but Christie regretted the harsh bite of her words almost instantly. Her friend was only trying to help.

"Look at it from Jim's point of view for a minute. His world has been turned upside down. He goes to work just like he does everyday and expects to come home just like he does everyday. Instead, he ends up in the hospital with a bullet in his head. When he wakes up, he finds out he's blind with no hope of ever regaining his sight. That's a lot to take in all at once, but if you asked him, I'm sure he'd say the gunman got what he deserved."

"Life in prison would have done it for me. Knowing he'd lost his freedom just like Jim would have been more satisfying, but at least he can't hurt anyone else."

"What about Jim? He doesn't deserve this and neither do you. He's being hailed as a hero. Some hero! His career as a homicide detective is over, he feels like less of a man because he can't protect you the way he used to. How's he going to provide for you? What kind of a job is he going to have now? Is he going to be stuffing envelopes for the rest of his life? His independence is gone. The apartment is a series of obstacles that never seem to disappear, the food on his plate keeps moving, and the outside world is a scary place full of faceless people, and an overwhelming number of sounds that threaten to push him into a bottomless black hole with no escape. His world is spinning out of control and there's nothing he can do about it."

"But he _can _do something about it," Christie protested. "He just won't. I feel like I'm in a prison with no hope of parole, no way out."

"But you're not in a prison and neither is Jim. It's more like being in a room with the door locked. Find the key and you can escape together."

Christie looked confused. What key? What was Kylie talking about?

Just then, the waitress came and they ordered. After she left, Kylie turned to Christie. "Do you have a compact in your purse?

Christie nodded.

"I want you to take it out and open it. Tell me what you see."

Slowly she opened the compact and moved it so she could see her face in the tiny mirror. What she saw reminded her of a tired old woman. Christie had dark circles under her eyes, her muscles were tight, and she noticed a few wrinkles she hadn't seen before. A deep breath escaped her lips before she answered. "I see myself, of course."

"_You_ are the key. You are the key to unlocking the door. It's time for you to move to the next step so Jim can follow. It won't be easy, but I promise it will get better."

"Kylie, what am I supposed to _do_?"

"Next time you lie down on the couch, ask him to get you a blanket. He'll probably get mad and tell you to get it yourself. He might even yell at you. Let him. Don't say a word. If you have to, repeat your request for the blanket. No matter how much he protests, how nasty he gets, don't quit until he gets it for you. If he bumps into something or drops three other blankets on the floor, don't say a word. When he gives it to you, say thank you, tell him how good it feels, or whatever it is that you would normally say to him."

"You really think it'll work?" Christie asked doubtfully.

"Don't make a big fuss, just act normal. Find things for him to do throughout the day and be prepared to wait for as long as it takes. Each time he succeeds at something, his self-confidence and self-worth will grow. When that happens, he'll accept the help that he needs and get on with living."

Christie waited while the waitress placed their coffee on the table. "Kylie, that all sounds great and wonderful, but how do you know it's going to work? This is real life not some chick-flick with a happy ending."

Her friend took a deep breath and looked down at the table for a moment, gathering her thoughts before she spoke. "Christie, I'm going to share something with you that I have never shared with you before. Five years ago, I was married to a wonderful man named Sean. We had a nice house, we both had high paying jobs. It was all good. Then one night, there was a knock at the door. I opened it to find two policemen standing there. They asked if they could come in. I remember being very scared at that point. Two officers coming to your door was never a good thing. They told me Sean had been killed in a head-on collision. The other car had crossed the center line. Sean was killed instantly. I found out later, the driver of the other car was drunk. As drunks often do, he walked away. It wasn't fair! Why did Sean have to die while some drunk was still able to breathe and go home to his family? He was never coming home to me!" Kylie's voice shook with emotion as she remembered the events of that awful night. The napkin she had been holding lay in tatters on the table.

Christie didn't know what to say, so she remained silent and waited for Kylie to continue.

After a long pause and a few deep breaths, she said, "I fell into a deep depression after that. I didn't eat, I slept all the time. I wouldn't let anyone near me. I wanted to be alone and I was so nasty and angry that I got my wish for a while. I scared everyone away. Oh, they tried to help, but I didn't want anything to do with them. I sat at home, alone in the dark, in a self-imposed prison, cut off from all who cared. My sister was the one who turned me around. She forced me to start living again. She made me realize that by sitting in the dark, refusing to do anything, I was letting the drunk take not only Sean's life, but mine too. She made me see that Sean wouldn't want me to wallow in self-pity forever. He'd want me go live life and be happy."

Kylie remembered her first love with a fondness that brought a smile to her lips and a softness to her voice. "I love the man I'm married to now, but I will always love Sean, and he will always hold a special place in my heart. I'll see something or do something that reminds me of him, and it took a while, but now I can look at those times and smile and remember the fun we had together. Sean is gone, and I can't live in the past wishing for something that will never be.

"Jim can't do that either. He needs to learn to live again or the bad guys win. You asked me how I know getting tough works. Now you do," she said softly.

Christie stared at her friend, tears welling up in her eyes threatening to run down her cheeks. "Oh Kylie, I'm so sorry. I had no idea." Instinctively, Christie reached across the table and gave her friend's hand a squeeze. "Thank you," she said quietly.

"I have an idea!" Kylie said brightly after a moment of silence. "Let's go out for dinner. It's been a long time since we had a girl's night out."

"I don't know." Christie hadn't left Jim alone for any length of time since he'd come home from the hospital.

"Jim will be fine. Come on. Lesson number one: You can't help him unless you help yourself, so let's go. I won't take no for an answer."

"All right. Where do you want to go?"

"There's a new restaurant in town. It's called _O Noir. _It's the latest thing. Your whole meal is served and eaten in the dark. It sounds like fun and it might help you understand what it's like for Jim. Are you up for it?"

Christie wasn't sure, but she didn't want to disappoint Kylie. Getting out of the apartment had been a lot of fun and she wasn't quite ready to go back and face Jim's hostility. "Let's go!"


	3. Chapter 3

A short time later, Kylie and Christie pulled into the parking lot of _O Noir_. "You ready?" Kylie asked as she picked up her purse and slung it over her shoulder.

Christie hesitated before opening the door. Now that she was actually here, she didn't know if she could go through with it. _I could tell her I'm too tired,_ she thought. _We could do it another night. No, don't disappoint Kylie, _Christie chided herself. It's only for a little while and Kylie was right.She was the key to helping Jim right now. Since he wouldn't let anyone else near him, she was it. Did she really have the right to push him, if she wasn't willing to push herself? "Ready as I'll ever be. Let's do it."

As they entered the front door of the restaurant, they were greeted by a tall thin man in his early forties. "Good evening, and welcome to _O Noir_. My name is Christopher. Is this your first time here, or have you dined with us before?"

"No, this is our first time," Kylie said enthusiastically, "and we're really looking forward to it."

Christie wasn't sure about the "we" part of Kylie's statement, but she smiled and tried to listen as he explained what was going to happen. "You are about to experience food, drink, and conversation in complete darkness. In order to preserve that darkness and allow you to enjoy the experience to its fullest, we ask that you place all cell phones, watches, cigarette lighters, and anything else you have that gives off light, into this bin. It will then be placed in a locker and you will be given a key so you can pick your items up on the way out."

They decided to leave their purses in the locker too since it would be difficult to keep track of them in the dark. After handing them a key, Christopher gave them a menu. "You will need to order your food before entering the darkened area of the restaurant. Once you have ordered, a waiter will come and escort you to your table."

"Thank you," Christie replied as she began to read the menu. Although there were not a lot of choices, it was hard to decide. They all sounded delicious. She'd been so busy watching Jim earlier, she had eaten very little dinner. Now that she could smell food, Christie was very hungry. She finally decided on grilled vegetables with goat's cheese, chicken breast with aubergine, tomatoes and mozzarella, and the dessert surprise. Maybe it would be fun to try to guess what she was eating.

Kylie was a little more daring and decided to order nothing but surprise dishes.

"Do you have any questions before I get Nathan to guide you to your table?" Christopher asked.

Both women shook their heads and before they knew what was happening, a man appeared from somewhere on the other side of a black velvet curtain.

"Nathan, these ladies are ready to be seated. They are about ten steps ahead of you."

Christie's mouth dropped and her eyes bulged. Dumfounded, she could do nothing but stare at the man who was now standing directly in front of her. "You're blind? Like totally blind?"

Nathan smiled to himself. This woman's reaction was not out of the ordinary. For some reason, many sighted people thought blind people couldn't hold down real jobs. That's why he loved working here. The sighted and the blind met in the most unique way possible. Some had a lot of fun and enjoyed the whole experience, others couldn't handle it and were bothered by the complete darkness, disorientation, and frustration that came with it. No matter what, all said they had a greater appreciation for the difficulties faced by those living in a dark world.

"Yes. All the servers are visually impaired."

"But…you don't…look blind," Christie said hesitantly.

Nathan laughed good-naturedly. "Thank you. I'll take that as a compliment. You mean I'm not bumping into things, wondering where I'm going?"

"Yes."

"Practice. It's like anything. The more you do it, the easier it gets. Memorizing the layout of a room isn't hard as long as you have some time and a white cane." Nathan sensed there was more involved here than curiosity, and he could only hope that this short conversation had been of some help. "Well, are you ready to experience dining in the dark?" Without really waiting for an answer, Nathan continued, "The first thing I need to know is your name. I can't say 'hey you' when I have a question."

"It's Christie, and my friend's name is Kylie."

"Hi Christie. Hi Kylie. Nice to meet you. What I need you to do is put your hand on my left shoulder and I'll guide you to your table. Christie, I'll take you first, and then I'll come back for Kylie."

Christie wasn't sure about going alone, but Nathan was very nice and had made her feel at ease. _Besides,_ she thought, _how dark could it be anyway? There was no such thing as a completely dark room. _ But Christie was wrong. She passed through not one, but two black velvet curtains into the blackest room she had ever been in. It was blacker than black. She was completely dependent on Nathan. She knew where he was because her hand was still on his shoulder, but she couldn't see him. Not even an outline or a shadow. Her breathing came in short quick breaths, her grip on Nathan's shoulder tightened as panic threatened to take over the calm she had felt only moments before.

Nathan sensed her fear and he tried to reassure her. "It's okay, Christie. We're going left and then it's just a few more steps to your table."

Christie said nothing. Even though she had a death grip on Nathan's shoulder, it was very disorienting to walk into a black void. She felt like she was stumbling along, like she could fall at any moment. _What if I trip over something like Jim did this morning? Will Nathan fall too? _What she really wanted to do was scream at Nathan to stop, just for a minute. She was afraid to put one foot in front of the other. Where was it going to land? How close was she to her blind guide? Was she going to run into the back of his foot? Were the aisles wide or narrow? Was she going to bump someone's dinner along the way? She had no way to tell so she held her arms as close to her body as she could, making herself as small as possible. There were no landmarks, no tables, to tell her where she was or where she was going. She knew all those things were there. In fact, some of the people were very loud, as if being "blind" meant you were deaf too. But she couldn't _see_ them. The comfort of knowing where she was and where she was going was not there.

_Is this what it was like for Jim?_ She remembered an argument she and Jim had gotten into a few days ago. She couldn't even remember what had started it, but he had accused her of not understanding what it was like for him. "You just don't get it," he had said. "You don't know what it feels like to open your eyes every morning and see nothing. The window is there, I know the curtains are open because I can feel the sun on my face. I can look out the window and hear the birds singing, horns honking, people walking down the street, dogs barking. I know it's there, and no matter how hard I try to see the things that are just outside the window, nothing happens. All I ever see is darkness so complete and so empty that I don't know if I can live the rest of my life this way."

She had told him that of course he could. He was a strong man and all he needed to do was give it some time. Things would get better. He'd get used to it.

Apparently, that had been the wrong thing to say, because he had said, "Forget it!" and stomped off to the bedroom, slamming the door behind him. Now she understood that even if it was true, it was a cold insensitive thing to say at the time. She had only been in the dark a few minutes and already, she wanted to turn around and go back through the black curtains to the light on the other side.

"Here we are." Nathan's cheery voice interrupted her thoughts. "The chair is right in front of you," he said as he placed her hand on the back of it. Christie felt for the seat of the chair before sitting down. "Your place setting includes two forks, a knife, a spoon, a plate, and a napkin on the right. There is a glass of water located at about 2 o'clock on the right above your plate. I'm going to get Kylie now. I'll be back in a few minutes."

With that, he was gone, leaving Christie alone in the darkness. Slowly she moved her hand back and forth in front of her face. Surely her eyes would have adjusted to the dark by now. Straining as hard as she could, she willed her eyes to see something, any hint of the shape of her hand or even a finger. Nothing. Maybe she'd be able to see her plate. It was probably white and should be easy to see. Carefully, she felt the table in front of her until she found her plate. Christie turned it around in her hands, hoping to see a flash of white as light and plate came together. Once again, there was nothing. It was such a strange feeling, knowing something was there and not being able to see it. As she went to put the plate back on the table, her arm brushed against something knocking it to the floor. _Oh no!_ Christie was horrified. _Now what?_ Nothing was broken so that was good. It sounded like a utensil hitting the floor. She didn't want anyone thinking she didn't clean up after herself. She decided to try to find it. With one hand on the table, Christie leaned over and felt the floor with the other. It wasn't beside her chair. Maybe it had fallen under the table. While she was searching under the table for her elusive fork, she was startled by a voice that seemed to come from nowhere.

"We've arrived at your table, Kylie. Christie is directly across from you."

It was Nathan and Kylie! She didn't want them to see her fumbling around. How embarrassing would that be? In her haste to sit up, she banged her head on the underside of the table. "Ow," she said as she rubbed the top of her head. Christie finally managed to get her head out from under the table and expected to see a look of concern on the face of her friend. She heard Kylie sitting down, the chair scrapping the floor as she pulled it close to the table, and Nathan saying he'd be back in five minutes with their appetizers. Christie folded her arms and her lips formed a thin line. Her brow wrinkled in disgust. She was just about to let Kylie know that she could have at least asked if she was all right when it suddenly dawned on her. Kylie couldn't see her and probably didn't even know she'd bumped her head.

Christie's thoughts were interrupted by Kylie's excited chatter. "I can't believe how black it is in here. I keep expecting to see a sliver of light somewhere, but there's nothing. Do you know that I was a bit unsteady walking to the table? If it wasn't for Nathan, I might have fallen. Wouldn't that have been something if I fell into someone else's table? I wonder if they have ever had that happen and if they would turn on the lights to clean up the mess."

Christie wished someone would fall so they would turn on the lights. _Kylie seems to be enjoying herself. Why can't I?_ She pushed those thoughts out of her mind and decided to try and have fun. Maybe it would be easier now that she wasn't alone.

"Hey, Christie," Kylie said in a voice that was just a little too loud. "Have you found your water yet? I'm kind of thirsty and I can't seem to find mine."

"Kylie," Christie half whispered. "You're shouting. I'm right here. And no, I haven't even tried to find my water yet."

"Oops! Sorry!" Kylie giggled. "It's so dark in here, I forgot you weren't that far away."

"That's okay. Nathan told me the glasses were at 2 o'clock just above your plate." Christie reached for her glass and was met with nothing but empty space. She tried again with no luck. "I can't seem to find mine. What about you?"

"Not yet. Seems like it's a lot farther away than you think."

After a moment, Christie heard a soft clunk and then felt an unpleasant sensation of something dripping into her lap. Startled by the sudden cold, she backed her chair away from the table in an effort to escape the steady stream of water.

"Uh….Christie….I think I found my water."

"Yeah, I know. It's all over the table and my lap!" Christie managed to find her napkin and began the awkward task of soaking up the water that had drifted over to her side of the table. There was way too much water for one napkin. Now what? "Kylie, I think we might have to ask Nathan for more napkins. One isn't going to do it."

"Don't sweat it," Kylie said. "I found a whole stack of extra napkins over here. I guess they expect us to make a mess."

"Kylie, I don't know where 'over here' is."

"Oh, um, they would be….on your right in the middle of the table."

"Thanks." Christie found the extra napkins and had most of the water cleaned up when a voice from nowhere startled her. "Here you go ladies. Your entrees have arrived. Kylie, your entrée surprise, and Christie, your grilled vegetables with goat's cheese."

"Thanks, Nathan. Do you think I could have another glass of water? I kind of had a little accident."

"Sure, no problem. Don't worry about it. Happens all the time. I'll be back in a few minutes to see how you're doing. Would you like your water now?"

"Yes, please." A few minutes later, Nathan placed another glass of water by her plate and then was gone.

Kylie carefully felt the dish in front of her. It was cold and had high rounded sides. "Whatever I'm going to eat is cold and in a bowl. Have you tried yours yet? What kind of vegetables do you think you got?" she asked as she carefully patted the table to the left of her bowl in search of her fork. _Ahhh! Success_, she thought as her hand touched cold metal. Feeling the end to make sure it was really a fork, and finding the edge of the bowl with her hand, she finally stabbed the mystery entrée with her invisible utensil. She heard a bit of a crunch as her fork found some food. Slowly she brought the fork up to her mouth anticipating the first bite of something wonderful. Instead, whatever was on her fork was too big for her mouth and an unknown liquid dripped down her chin. Kylie leaned forward hoping she was over the bowl and started to laugh.

"What's so funny?" Christie wanted to know.

"Something cold and wet almost went up my nose and something else is dripping from my chin. Just feels funny and I wasn't expecting it to be that big. You never said how your food was."

"I'm just about to try it now" Christie had already found her lone remaining fork and decided scooping might be easier than stabbing. As her fork scraped the bottom of the plate, she could feel vegetables and fork meet. Cautiously she brought the fork up to her mouth only to discover that it was empty. All the vegetables must have fallen off on the way up. _How could that be?_ She was sure she had kept her fork flat. _Oh well, I'll just try again,_ she said to herself. However, the second time was no different than the first. Another empty fork. Now Christie could feel the frustration building inside. _Why can't I keep the damn food on my fork? I know there's some there when I start._ Finally, after three tries, Christie managed to get a few vegetables into her mouth. Once she began chewing, her taste buds seemed to be working overtime. So many flavours and textures. Sweet almost like apples, something slightly bitter, and something else that tasted like juicy boneless chicken. She decided that one was a green pepper, but what were the other two? There was no way they could be chicken or apples since neither one was a vegetable.

"Christie, I'm dying of suspense over here. What are you eating?"

"Oh sorry, Kylie. It took me a while to get something in my mouth. I kept coming up empty. I think I ate a green pepper, but I have absolutely no idea what else is on my plate so far. How's your salad?"

"Great! I've been having some trouble with the fork too. You wouldn't think so with a big bowl of salad. I put my fork down once to have a drink, and I couldn't find it for quite a while. I think I'm eating romaine lettuce. It's a bit crispy and bitter, not rounded like head lettuce. The salad has some kind of cheese on it, but I can't figure out what. After three or four empty forks, I decided it was too much work so I've been eating with my fingers. You should do that too. It's a lot easier."

Christie was disgusted with the thought of a grown woman eating with her hands. How could Kylie do that? "Kylie, what if someone sees you? What are they going to think?"

"Christie, get real would you? Who's going to see? Loosen up and go with the flow. This is the one time in your life you can eat the way you were always told not to and get away with it. I bet you any money that most people are doing the same thing."

Kylie had a point, but she still couldn't bring herself to do it. It seemed so….wrong. Deciding she needed a drink, Christie's hand went in search of her water glass. As she reached to where she thought it should be, she felt something soft and mushy brush up against her arm. Without thinking, she bent her arm so she could look to see what was on it. Once again, she had forgotten that she was in the blackest room she had ever been in and her eyes saw nothing. _How was she going to get it off? At first she didn't know what to do. Should she tell Kylie what happened? No, Kylie would just tell her to get over it again, and she couldn't take that._ _The extra napkins!_ Christie was flooded with a feeling of relief as she managed to find a napkin without incident. With her arm clean, she again went in search of the elusive glass of water. Holding her arm higher than normal, she finally found the water glass after coming up empty a few times.

Just as she was about to swallow, a voice that seemed way too loud said, "How are you making out? Are you ready for your main dishes yet?" Both ladies jumped at the sudden intrusion. Kylie's arm hit her fork that had been discarded long ago and unknowingly left on the plate under her salad bowl. A loud clang made her jump again. Christie almost choked on the mouthful of water, but managed to swallow it before it spewed all over the table and who knows what else. "Sorry, didn't mean to startle you. Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. I was concentrating so hard on my salad that I didn't even hear you coming." Kylie sounded like she was trying not to laugh. "As for the next round, I think I'm ready. I've eaten all the salad I can find."

"I'm fine too," Christie replied half-heartedly. "I'm not as hungry as I thought, but I'll try the main dish anyway."

The second course wasn't much different from the first. Kylie continued to enjoy every minute of the experience no matter what happened. She didn't care if she spilled something or dropped her fork on the floor. She didn't even seem bothered by the fact that somehow a good portion of her main dish ended up in her lap. She wasn't sure what she was eating, and Christie couldn't help wondering if Kylie would be embarrassed to walk out of the restaurant in clothes that were probably covered in stains. Most likely the answer was no, considering how unconcerned she seemed about the mishaps that had already occurred.

Christie continued to make an effort for Kylie's sake. Her friend was having so much fun and Christie didn't want to spoil it for her. But what was funny about any of this? She had lost her fork many times, and she only had one left since the other was lost even before the food arrived. The anticipation of a tasty bite of food was constantly replaced by an empty fork, and her dress was still wet from Kylie's water. The sheer effort and concentration required to find food and eat it with any sort of dignity was exhausting, and the food was rapidly losing its taste. Christie longed to see even a tiny piece of food, to know where it was.

For Christie, the last straw came during dessert. After a couple of bites of the mystery dish, she reached for her water. Remembering how far away it was last time, she reached above her plate and was relieved when she found her glass almost right away. She had only taken a sip when Kylie's voice interrupted her thoughts.

"Christie, have you seen my…I mean, did I tell you where I put my water down the last time I took a drink? I can't seem to find it."

"No, you didn't"

"Do you think you could help me find it? I'm eating something that has a cookie crust and is very rich, creamy, and chocolaty. I think it might be chocolate cheesecake. I could really use a drink to wash it down."

Christie really didn't feel like groping all over the table feeling for Kylie's water glass. She did it anyway, hoping that it would get her out of the darkness sooner rather than later. What if she spilled something? What if something fell on the floor? She wouldn't have to worry about any of this if there was even a little bit of light. Kylie finished searching her side of the table but found nothing. "Christie, have you found anything? I don't think it's over here."

"No, I have…" Christie froze in mid-sentence. She had found a water glass just above her plate. _How can that be,_ she wondered. _I already have a glass in my hand. If this is my glass on the table, then the one in my hand must be Kylie's. _Oh no! How could she have misjudged the distance that much? Rather than admit to her friend that she had accidentally drunk some of her water, she just said, "Here, Kylie. I found your water. Somehow it ended up on my side of the table."

"Oh thanks, Christie.

After a few unsuccessful attempts at finding the water glass, Christie said, "Here, I'm holding it out for you." Kylie finally managed to locate Christie's hand and followed it until she found the glass.

"Kylie, did Nathan say when he was coming back? I really need to use the ladies room." Christie remembered reading somewhere that the bathrooms had dim lighting. She needed to get out of the darkness even if it was only for a few minutes.

"No, he didn't, but I'll get him for you."

"How are you going to do that?"

"Easy. Nathan!" she yelled in what seemed like a voice loud enough to wake the dead.

"Kylie!" Christie whispered.

"What? If you gotta go, you gotta go. I might as well come with you. That way, Nathan only has to make one trip."

A few minutes later, Christie leaned against the door of the bathroom and breathed a huge sigh of relief. Light. Not a lot, but enough to see her hand in front of her face, what she was doing, where she was going. She looked around. The walls were off white with a grayish tinge. An oval-shaped mirror hung above each sink. The tiled floor was white and had an unknown pattern. Ordinarily Christie would have complained about the décor, but right now, this was one of the nicest rooms she had ever seen.

She looked over at Kylie who was busy looking at something in the mirror. Christie dragged her tired body over to her friend. "Kylie, what are you doing?"


	4. Chapter 4

She looked over at Kylie who was busy looking at something in the mirror. Christie dragged her tired body over to her friend. "Kylie, what are you doing?"

Before Christie knew what was happening, Kylie threw her arms up in the air and let out a yell. Then she swallowed the melted mess that threatened to drip all over the counter. "I'm so bad. You know what I did? I took a bite of dessert just as Nathan arrived at our table, and I've been saving it so I can look in the mirror to see if it really is chocolate cheesecake. I was right! It _is_ chocolate cheesecake! It's really good too. Wish I knew how they made it."

Christie wrinkled her nose and looked away. She liked Kylie, but honestly, sometimes she was worse than a child. She tried to focus on what Kylie was saying. "You know, this whole experience has been really good. I never realized how much we use our sight and how we take it for granted. I mean, it was harder to walk, I kept losing things, and people seemed to come out of nowhere. I think everyone should come here at least once. Not only would they appreciate sight, but they would understand what it's like for a blind person and the struggles they face everyday."

Kylie's voice drifted away as Christie thought about her own experience. She thought about Jim and how hard it must be for him. She felt guilty for all the times she had complained about not being able to move the furniture or having to pick up every little thing because he didn't know it was there. Then there was the dinner. How could she forget that? What was supposed to be time spent together had turned into a shouting match. Christie had once thought of blindfolding herself for a while, just to see what it was like, but she could never bring herself to do it. She didn't want to admit it, but the idea had frightened her. _Anyway_, she'd thought, _I don't have to. He'll get used to it. People do it every day._ She really hadn't understood it all then, but she did now. It was hard to walk into a big black empty space. She had hated not knowing where she was going, or where the people were. Eating had been nothing but a big frustration. The food was good, but she had not enjoyed it at all. How could she? It took so much time and effort just to find everything that she really hadn't felt much like eating. No wonder Jim wanted everything to stay the same all the time. It was so much easier when you knew where things were, when you could see them. In some ways, she had felt like such a child. She couldn't go anywhere by herself because she might get hurt and had no way of knowing where she was going. She had been totally dependent on Nathan for everything. If it had made her feel like this, what was it doing to Jim? He was such a strong independent man who was used to taking charge. All that was gone now. How was he going to deal with it? What was going to become of him? Of them?

Christie didn't know the answer to any of these questions right now, but she did know that she had to get out of here, and go home. Things had been strained between them for a while and the shooting had only added to that. But, right now, tonight, she needed to feel him close to her, and tell him that somehow, they would get through this—together.

Slowly Christie climbed into bed beside Jim. He stirred slightly, but didn't wake. He looked so peaceful when he slept, different from the anger and turmoil that plagued him during the day. As she stroked his blonde hair, tears began to run down her cheeks. "Jim, I'm so sorry this happened to you. I'm sorry I haven't been there for you. I get it now. I understand what it must be like for you to live in the dark. Kylie and I went out for dinner tonight. It was so hard. I didn't know where I was half the time, I kept losing my fork, and I know I spilled food all over the floor. I even had to leave once and go to the bathroom because I couldn't take the darkness any more. If I can't take it for a couple of hours, how are you going to live with it? How are _we_ going to live with it? I'm not sure, but I do know that tomorrow is the beginning of the journey. How long it will take, where it will lead, we'll find out together. You know what Jimmy? You can't hide in the apartment for the rest of your life. I'm through letting you chase me away. I know it hasn't been that long, but it's time we both started living again. I think Kylie's right. You're not really mad at me but at the price you've had to pay for doing what you thought was right. Now that I understand that, I can take anything you can throw at me, Jim. I'm not going anywhere because I love you."

_Easy to say all that while he's asleep_, Christie thought, _but can I really go through with it? Can I really be that tough? I have no choice. One thing's for sure, we can't go on like this. Something has to change. _As she drifted off to sleep, she wondered what she would do in the morning, and how he would react. For the first time in a long time, she felt at peace. Tomorrow was the beginning, the beginning of reclaiming the life stolen by a stranger with a gun.

The next morning, Christie stood silently watching Jim. He spent a lot of time these days, sitting on the couch in front of the blank wall for hours, endlessly throwing the rattling ball against the wall. He had gotten quite good at it in such a short time, catching it about half of the time. The wall could no longer hide the battle scars it had suffered because of the war raging inside Jim. She felt trapped. They were like strangers living in the same apartment. He rarely spoke to her and when he did, it was in anger, or in a voice that ended the conversation before it started.

Watching him now, she knew she just couldn't walk up to him and say, "Jim, we need to talk." She'd be lucky if he even acknowledged her presence. Even from the back, his body radiated with tension. His shoulders were tight and stiff. Each time he threw the ball, his arm would stop in mid-air for a split second before he let the ball go with a force that she felt was too hard, but never was. As the ball hit the wall, he listened intently for the rattle and somehow knew where it was and when it would reach him so he could throw it again. She knew if she could see his face, it would be one of deep concentration, determination, and anger, a look that she had learned long ago meant that any discussion was out of the question.

She had to get his attention somehow, force him to listen to her. Taking a deep breath, Christie walked into enemy territory, waited until he threw the ball, and then grabbed it before it reached her husband's waiting hands.

_What was that?_ Jim thought. It sounded like someone caught the ball as it bounced toward him. That couldn't be. He was alone in the living room, wasn't he? He'd been concentrating on the ball so much, he wasn't sure. It had to be Christie. There was no one else. "Christie, give it back."

"Not until we talk."

"I have nothing to say to you or anyone else."

"I have a lot to say to you and you're going to listen." Christie tried to make her voice sound authoritative and determined, something she really didn't feel at the moment.

She sat down beside him, took a deep breath, and started talking, praying that her words would reach the man who refused to turn in her direction. "Jim, I haven't said anything since you've come home from the hospital. I thought you needed some space, some time to adjust to things, but it's been a while now and you're no different than when you came home. You spend most of the day sitting on the couch with that stupid ball."

"So what?" Jim's voice was bitter. What was the point? He could barely get around the apartment without bumping into things. Why should he bother? He felt like a four-year-old when he ate. Christie never said much, but he knew that he dropped a lot of food on the floor, spilled a lot of drinks. He could always hear Christie in the kitchen cleaning up his messes. She tried to be quiet so he wouldn't hear, but he knew. As for leaving the apartment—forget it.

Christie was not about to let his anger intimidate her. "Jim, what do you do when you have a case to solve?"

"What's that got to do with anything?"

"Just answer the question, Detective."

_All right_, Jim thought. _I'll play this game and then maybe she'll leave me alone._ "We go to the crime scene, take photos, look for clues, interview witnesses, family members, toss ideas back and forth."

"And if you ran into some trouble and didn't catch the perp right away, would you give up and move on to the next case?"

"Of course not!" Jim was getting annoyed. Where was she going with this anyway?

"Then why are you giving up now?" she asked quietly. "Why are you letting blindness beat you?"

"I'm not," Jim said defensively. "I—I just need time to adjust."

"How much time," Christie demanded. "A month? Six months? A year? How long am I supposed to wait while you 'adjust?' Think of blindness as a perp. Right now, it's laughing at you, taunting you. It has control of you and you're letting it win. If it was a real perp, you'd never do that. You'd do everything in your power to bring that perp to justice. So why is this different? Why aren't you using the determination and the deductive skills that make you a good detective to beat this? Why are you letting your blindness control you? Why, Jim? There are all kinds of clues out there, people willing to help you, and yet you refuse to see any of them."

"Christie, how can you possibly compare this to a case? Most cases are solved and the bad guys go to jail. Even if they don't get caught right away, that can change if anything new comes in. This will _never _change. Jim couldn't keep the hurt and frustration from his voice.

"Jim, I know that. Unfortunately, that is something we both have to accept. Your life has changed. Some things will never be the same. You'll have to change the way you do certain things and so will I. But it will be okay. We'll get through it together.

"If you're trying to make me feel better, you're doing a great job," Jim said sarcastically.

Christie ignored him and kept going. "What you decide to do from now on is up to you. No one but you can change your attitude, and you can sit here in the apartment and feel sorry for yourself, pushing everyone away who cares about you, those that want to help you, or you can fight to step out of the darkness and into the light."

Jim was about to say something, but she put her hand on his lips to stop him. "I'm not talking about physical light. We both know that's not possible. I'm talking about mental and emotional light. Right now, you can't see past the hurt, anger, and frustration you feel over what happened to you. You saved who knows how many people outside the bank, and stopped the gunman. People call what you did heroic, only you don't really feel like a hero because first of all, you were just doing your job, and second, you can't even leave the apartment on your own. Am I right?"

Jim said nothing, but Christie knew she had his attention. "A hero is not someone who fixes everything, or someone who shoots a crazed gunman. A hero is someone who stands when the battles won't quit. In that way, you have always been a hero. You have never quit, never let a perp get the best of you. Don't start now. I know it will be hard, and there will be many battles that will have to be faced in the future, but you don't have to face them alone. I'm here and so are the trained professionals. It's up to you. Are you going to live in darkness for the rest of your life and let the gunman win, or are you going to stand and fight the battles one at a time?"

With that, Christie left him alone to think about everything she had said. He'd been quiet during the last half of the conversation, and he'd listened to what she had to say, but had she gotten through to him?

THE END


End file.
